


so mind if i stay the night

by craftingdead



Series: charlie will make cd a common tag if it kills them [28]
Category: The Crafting Dead
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Forced Marriage, M/M, Surprise Kissing, THE VOWS WE TAKE BABY, after this we'll get back to the usual scheduled netto i promise, edit 2: changed mousie to kassandra, edit: changed ghetto cameo to sky, minecraft diaries au!, oh you KNOW what episode it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craftingdead/pseuds/craftingdead
Summary: The King leered down at the two of them, throne towering high above their forms. The room was made out of dreary stone and washed-out wood, torches lighting up the path to his throne with a single chandelier swinging overhead. Everything felt damp and musty, and sweat had Shark’s clothes sticking to his back uncomfortably, the gray-blue shirt and brown pants he’d been handed that were too small on him, tight basically everywhere and riding up his calves. Not in a good way. The rope holding his hands together behind his back rubbed into wrists, almost thin enough to cut—or leave a really bad burn, of which was already starting to hurt.(But he was there for Nick. That was all that mattered. He was going to find him and he was going to get them out of there.)





	so mind if i stay the night

The King leered down at the two of them, throne towering high above their forms. The room was made out of dreary stone and washed-out wood, torches lighting up the path to his throne with a single chandelier swinging overhead. Everything felt damp and musty, and sweat had Shark’s clothes sticking to his back uncomfortably, the gray-blue shirt and brown pants he’d been handed that were too small on him, tight basically everywhere and riding up his calves. Not in a good way. The rope holding his hands together behind his back rubbed into wrists, almost thin enough to cut—or leave a really bad burn, of which was already starting to hurt.

Beside his throne stood a woman. Still as glass, she watched him with a hint of pity in her eyes, a crown on her head mirroring the King’s. _Must be the Queen,_ Shark thought to himself, noting the regal aura she held herself to, and the long, black dress she was wearing, studded with gold and silver.

The Stranger was a weird little man, shorter than you would think, hearing his name. But unsettling enough to make up for it. A majority of the people in the room—werewolves, humans alike—were staring at him with a sort of dismay. Anytime he caught one of their eyes, he grinned wickedly, flashing his dazzling smile of rotting teeth and bleeding gums. He kept a hand on Shark’s shoulder at all times. _As if I would try to escape._

“What is the meaning of this?” the King demanded, hitting his fist on the armrest of his throne.

All eyes were pulled to him as he spoke; even the Stranger looked slightly alarmed at his anger, his grip on Shark faltering for the tiniest second before it returned quickly—along with that downright scary smile of his.

“Why do you bring more people to my door, Stranger?” he continued, watching them with a stern eye and while sounding mostly annoyed, there was this hint of a threat creeping in along with it. “I thought I told you to leave these grounds after last time. You brought the Meif’wa’s, did your part. You should not be here.”

The Strange stepped in front of him, bowing jerkily and almost falling to the floor before scrambling back up. He laughed with a hint of manic and gestured to Shark. “Well, you see, King Lorenzo, your honor, I’ve brought you this male. I think you would be… very interested in who he appears to be. He refuses to help me, after all, so I have no use for him.” The Stranger grinned again, looking back at Shark with a wild and wide-eyed look.

“Freak,” Shark spat at him. Yeah, “refuses to help.” Because the kind of “help” he needed was the kind that buried bodies in backyards and tried to play it off as an accident, not a murder for shits and giggles.

He narrowed his eyes, taking a step towards Shark and baring his glass shard teeth, before glancing back at King Lorenzo and scrambling away. He bowed low and apologetically. Then, he smiled a strained smile up at him.

“Quiet!” Lorenzo snapped at Shark, starting to rise. The Queen rested a hand on the armrest and murmured something to him, eyes narrowed, and he reluctantly leaned back. Put on a small smile, lounged back, crossed on leg over the other and rested it on the edge of the opposing armrest, nails digging into the fabric hard enough to tear.

“Now, Stranger, there is no reason for you to bring more people. And if you truly brought him just because he wouldn’t help you with your strange wants then, trust me, I would be glad to have your head on one of my walls.” He leaned forward in his chair. “But you called him ‘interesting.’ Is there a reason for this man to be ‘interesting’ that I should know of?”

“Indeed!” The Stranger cackled, bringing a wince from and Queen and crowd.

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Tell me! I don’t let you in this castle willingly, you either help me with something or you get thrown in the dungeon. I’m tired of having you here, have I told you that before?”

“Many times!” he said and grinned again. “I’ve heard from a… source, of mine, that the cuter of the two Meif’wa’s I brought you is to be married to your nephew. Great news, very great news, the red-head was a task to deal with. She tried to bite me once, you know!”

“Get on with it.”

“Well…” The Stranger wrung his hands together and, again, looked back at Shark with a delighted, nasty look on his face. “This man right here is his lover—”

The reveal grew a gasp from the crowd. The Queen raised her knuckles to her face, covering her mouth (and a mouth open in surprise), shaking her head slightly, looking even more pitiful. Blood rushed to his head and the chatter was blocked out. How dare he… he didn’t fucking know what they had, what he meant to Shark. This was absolutely outrageous. _If I get out here alive, I’m tearing his head from his shoulders._

“—nasty little surprise, isn’t it. This man was a work to wrestle into those binds! With that information, and the little fact of your nephew’s fiancé not exactly being the most willing fiancé out there, it would be a shame if this man was allowed to frisk around with him. Start a secret relationship, ruin the traditions that have been upheld for generations… well, I couldn’t just let him run around, could I? So, after he revealed he wanted nothing to do with my, “work,” I decided to bring him to you! And here we are!”

King Lorenzo sighed. Loudly. Shut his eyes tight and opened them again, looking down at the two of them. “I see,” he said slowly.

Shark didn’t know what that meant, but it sure wasn’t going to end up well for him at all. God, he wanted to know where he was, where everyone else was… they shouldn’t have talked to the Stranger in the first place.

“I didn’t wish this to be true, but I had my suspicions the moment you brought in a male,” he continued. “This is most unfortunate. And to think, I believed that these next few nights were going to be ones of joy and celebration? Very well. His execution will be painful and long—I have already sent for my nephew to help with it.”

“A very good choice!” The Stranger bared his jagged teeth again, in a cruel smile. Shark couldn’t hear him over the ringing in his ears. He was going to be executed? There was no way. He couldn’t let this happen. This couldn’t be _happening._

“Now,” Lorenzo said, fixing the Stranger with a harsh glare, “get the hell out of my land and never return. You are no longer wanted. If I catch you here again, I will send my men to hunt you down and kill you.”

“If you say so! I hope you never run into me either because knowing this, I won’t be so kind and grateful, your honor, my King!”

The Stranger took one last look around the room, grinning all the way, before spinning on his heel and sprinting out of the room. One of Lorenzo’s men barely had time to push the doors open before he was gone, disappearing into the night. Shark’s shoulders were shaking with barely contained rage, he had never been this angry before. He vowed to himself, right then and there, if he ever saw that man again, he would kill him where he stood.

Lorenzo watched him leave, bored, all earlier anger and rage towards him dissipating right as he disappeared out the door. The Queen looked shaken, still staring at the spot where he stood. The crowd shuffled uneasily.

“Now that we got that over with…” he started, “you. Loverboy.”

“My name is Shark,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Alright then, Shark, I’ve heard stupider names.” The room laughed, as if on cue. Some of his men in the back slapped their own knees, loudly, and hooted. “Quiet, everyone! Tell me—and tell me honestly, I don’t need no lies in my kingdom—are you truly in love with the Meif’wa that will be marrying my nephew, or is that a lie the Stranger came up with to rile us up?”

He had to choose his words very, very carefully now; god, he prayed to whatever Saints above there possibly could be, and spoke: “No. I am not in a relationship with him, nor have I ever been. I am only his guard. That is all I have ever been, I promise you that …King Lorenzo.”

The Queen nodded, looking relieved at the news. Lorenzo was unreadable. “Alright,” he said, not hint or anger or disbelief or mocking in his voice. “If you’re so sure of it…”

“Lorenzo,” the Queen started, “I believe him. Let’s just throw him in the dungeon like the other girl, and be done with it—”

“If you truly aren’t in love with him, I’ll know it soon. He’s standing on the stairs to your right, with my son, his _fiancé._ Look at him and tell me that you are nothing more than a guard,” Lorenzo commanded.

Shark looked down. A voice in his head screamed that this was a trap, and the King was just using the excuse of him being over there to confirm something that didn’t exist and have him executed. Because apparently, he was such a “danger.”

But… not looking was just as dangerous. It proved every further that he was “guilty,” and he was trying to avoid getting murdered as much as the next person. The room held their breath as he sighed, and looked towards the stairs.

On the lower half stood an unfamiliar man, dressed in a noble outfit strikingly similar to the King’s. That must be his nephew. In front of him stood many guards, with some of them lining the wall of the stairs. Either for more protection or because there were no railings on the stairs, and the fall down was a long and nasty one. And behind him… and behind him, further up the steps, stood Nick.

He was wearing a long white shirt, off the shoulders and extending long past his fingertips. Black pants with a similar black sash around his waist. Compared to how Shark looked, he was much cleaner, hair looking softer than it had in days. His ears were flattened to his head, tail curled around his leg, but… but the worst part was how sad he looked. Not panicked, not dismayed, not scared (well, kind of scared) but sad. Like he would have done anything to get Shark out of this situation. The dark bags under his eyes only pronounced it further, and he shook his head in the same way that the Queen did when Shark felt like speaking up. Nick could always read him like that.

Shark wanted to say that he was ugly. That he was hideous—how dare he be clean when the rest of them couldn’t, how dare he have fitting and well-sewn clothes. Then, he wanted to say that he was average; that he didn’t have an opinion, he was his guard, after all. Or that, sure, he was pretty, but in a purely aesthetic sense. But the only thought running through his mind was that Nick was beautiful, sad eyes and all.

He looked back to King Lorenzo slowly, refusing to catch his eye in case it betrayed anything he wanted to keep hidden—for both his sake and Nick’s.

“…I see,” the King said slowly.

Then he near threw himself from his throne, standing and full height and pointing expectantly towards his nephew. “The execution will continue as follows!” he bellowed, and the room erupted into roars and yells, some people yelling, some people protesting. The Queen didn't catch his eye after that. She was probably trusting Shark not to do anything stupid, and he screwed that up along with his chance of life. But at least he could still try.

“I’m not lying!” he protested, taking a step forward. Two guards inched closer at the movement, as he yelled, “I am his guard and nothing more!”

“It doesn’t matter, you still pose a threat to their relationship and their safety! Monroe, come down and proceed as followed. You won’t let this man try and hurt you and this kingdom’s future, would you?”

Shark looked back over at Nick, desperate, who was frantically whispering something to “Monroe,” if he heard that correctly. Then, Monroe grabbed his hand and pulled them down to the center of the room, to more yelling and noises as they took place next to Shark in front of the throne. He tried to meet Nick’s eye and failed.

King Lorenzo smiled at this, and took a few steps towards his nephew, shrugging off the Queen’s hand as she tried to pull him back. “I assume you know how this is supposed to proceed, right? Harry informed you of everything?” A man, who Shark hadn’t noticed until now, waved.

Monroe nodded stiffly, as Lorenzo continued. “And you brought your dear fiancé with you, very good. Wouldn’t want his pretty little face to miss the execution of his _dearest_ “guard.” Let this come as a warning, Kitten, so you don’t play around with other men.”

“Um, actually, Uncle, I was wondering if we could come up with a… different arrangement for the execution. Maybe entirely?” Monroe started to say.

Nick must’ve said something to him, as Shark stared at him. There was no other way he could seriously be thinking of a different solution. He looked back to Nick, desperately wanting to see if it could be true if there was actually a way for him to get out. And, for the tiniest of seconds, sad green eyes met his own before looking back to the King.

The Queen shook her head, again.

“Hmm?” Lorenzo said. “I couldn’t really hear you, Nephew. Maybe you should speak up louder so I and everyone else in the room can hear what you’re trying to say. Maybe even get your voice to reach the dungeons if you can since your ‘different arrangement’ must be so interesting, right?”

Monroe bowed his head like a scolded child, and Shark felt all the hope seep out of him at that moment. “I mean… the arrangement I was thinking of, was if we performed the execution on the day of our—me and the Meif’wa, my fiancé’s wedding, instead of tonight. Maybe it would be better to give him a few more days to live so… so he can, uh, think really hard about what his life has come to and how he shouldn’t try and get with engaged men? Or we could just, let him go with a warning.”

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I do believe you should keep on going about that. I wonder if your friends down in the dungeon would enjoy you talking about setting a man you’ve never met free.” Monroe paled

“—what I believe our nephew’s trying to say, Lorenzo,” the Queen interrupted, shooting Monroe an unreadable look, “is that we should have the execution on their wedding night to please the gods. We are having it on a full moon, are we not? Our gods would love a sacrifice, especially to strengthen the bond between these two, seeing as it is a past lover.”

“Now that’s an idea I like!” the King exclaimed, completely changing his demeanor as he stepped away from the three of them. “My Queen, you are a genius!”

“Many people have told me that,” she mused quietly.

While Lorenzo was talking to the Queen, Nick elbowed Monroe in the side and hissed something under his breath.

Unfortunately for him, Lorenzo noticed. “Yes, my Nephew’s fiancé?” he said. “Is there anything you would wish to the conversation?”

“Uh,” Nick stuttered, “I was just talking to my fiancé about how… how I would love to uphold traditions sacred to your people, your honor. Pleasing people is something that I wish to do, and if you believe this works the best for you… then I agree with the timing and location.”

There was a dip in his voice, towards the end. _Dammit,_ Shark thought, _if they believed me even in the slightest when I said that I was just a guard, they don’t believe it now. Stupid Nick and his stupid high empathy._ God. This whole situation made him… so _angry._

“Alright then!” Lorenzo clasped his hands together. “If that is all, then this meeting is dismissed. Everyone, head back to your own jobs and homes. Nephew, his Meif’wa, return to his quarters. And do throw this ‘Shark’ into the dungeons, won’t you?”

“YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” he burst out as two guards came towards him, unable to contain himself. “I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to get out. And—and if you, if you fucking dare to even touch a hair on his head, I’ll—”

The last thing he heard before he was knocked out was Nick screaming out, “Shark!” before everything went black.

* * *

Nick kept thinking back to his conversation with Sky as he was scrubbed clean then scrubbed again and then forced into his “wedding attire” by Kassandra's Ladies-in-Waiting; she had offered them up, saying in a dark voice how she wouldn’t recommend any help from the men. They weren’t the best with boundaries.

Everything in the past few days had happened so quickly… them getting captured… Shelby and now Shark in the dungeon… Monroe’s friends trapped as well, at risk of being killed if any of them stepped out of line… it was all so horrible. It made him sick to his stomach, talking to Sky of what had happened. Getting everything off his chest with someone who hadn’t been involved was refreshing, but his look of horror was almost too much for him.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Nick, holding him as he spilled all his grievances. Sky than forced him to promise that he would get himself, get Shark and everyone out of there. “Shark needs to be there to protect you,” he said.

Waking up almost made him cry. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to be with Sky, a friendly face! Or, at the very least (or most, depending on how you looked at it) get out of here with everyone and their heads and sanities intact.

His hair is brushed, then brushed and brushed again until they give up and use conditioner, which finally gets it to not tangle upon the smallest head movement. His outfit is very similar to the one he’s been wearing during his stay at this hell castle, but instead fitted into a nice white suit (that barely looked like one, but still). His ears flick at every movement, paranoid, as a delicate handed girl fits an earring through the piercing he never quite got to close. A few guys wander in during the process, to help with his hair or outfit or just to deliver news and Nick wants to scream at all of them and hiss and break a window.

When they let him look in a mirror, he almost smashes it to the ground. Everything is terrible and bad and he wants to leave. He was. In hell. He was in hell! This entire thing was a dream he was gonna wake up from soon, and he’d be fine, and nothing bad would’ve happened, and—

“You look so pretty!” the girls' sequel, and the guys, ever stoic, of course, just give a thumbs-up while pretending not to ogle his legs or face or some other part of him.

“God, I wish I was the one getting married,” and it was almost comical how they said that all sighing and batting their eyelashes. Like it had been scripted. Nick wouldn’t put it past Lorenzo to give everyone and script and to force them to do as he wanted, but this was starting to get ridiculous.

“You want to be the one getting married?” he muttered under his breath, forcing a smile for them. “Take my place. I don’t think Monroe would mind…”

The guys left as one of the girls came up—the same one who put in his earring, the delicate one—and lightly set a silver-and-red circlet around his head. It was feather light but felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Everything just felt so _feminine._ He wouldn’t put it past Lorenzo to have made it all this way, to make him feel uncomfortable.

“I think I might throw up,” Nick said.

“Well, that wouldn’t be good, would it?” The girls all scrambled away, out the door as Queen Kassandra walked in, black dress dragging on the ground behind her. She looked very tired and much, much older than her age; more than he had noticed in the past days. Her curly hair was disheveled and her nails were bitten and chewed on.

“If it makes you feel any better at all, Nick, I think you look very handsome.”

He looked to the ground. “Well, it kind of does. But, either way, thank you for trying Kassandra. You seem to be the only nice, rational person in this entire situation.”

“You are very welcome.” She smiled, then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I tried, I really tried to get into contact with someone who could help you get out of this situation, but there was no one. I couldn’t get any messages out.”

God. Everything was shit. Every. Thing. Was. Shit. Nick exhaled a shaky breath. He must’ve looked like he was going to because Kassandra crossed the room quickly and cupped the side of his face with one hand. “Don’t cry,” she said softly as he, against his will, leaned into it. He didn’t want to appreciate what she did for him, how she tried to help him even though she refused to let him go, but Nick lets himself be vulnerable. Even if it’s for a second.

“It gets easier with time,” she promised, “when I married my husband, the King, when we were young, it was forced, too. Neither of us wanted to do it, and Lorenzo lashed out by not… being the greatest husband. Or King. But Monroe is better, and you’ll be much happier with him. Eventually, you learn to cope.”

“But what about Shelby?” Nick whispered. “What about Shark? One of them is already going to die if I go through with this, and I can’t do anything about it. What kind of King will Monroe be if he allows this to happen if he doesn’t stand up to his Uncle?”

“Monroe is being forced, too, you know. His close friends, Elliot and Dug, they are in the same situation as your Shelby. If he steps out of line one too many times, they will get executed—as will, more than likely, Shelby as well.”

“You people are horrible,” he said, horrified. Kassandra shook her head and retracted her hand.

“It is because of our traditions. I understand it. I’ve gone days without sleeping because my husband killed an innocent person. But these… these traditions have been set in stone for generations. I’m trying to help change them, but people are reluctant to. They never want change, they just want the same routine, so they’re comfortable. It is difficult.”

“Don’t people agree with you? Don’t people see the wrong in—in capturing people, marrying them off, and threatening their loved ones of they step out of line?”

“Nick—”

“What happens to Shelby when I get married? Will she stay where she is, miserable for god knows how long, or will she get murdered while I’m on some shitty excuse of a honeymoon? What about Elliot and Dug? What about all the other Meif’wa’s you gathered and killed?”

“You think I want this?” Kassandra hissed furiously. “You are still young, you understand little. Do you think I didn’t go through the same thing? That me and Lorenzo didn’t have our family threatened?”

“That wasn’t what I was implying,” he said, “and you know it. If you guys were threatened as well, why do you continue? Why are you making me do this as well? You’re a _Queen._ You’re _royalty._ You have _power._ You could stop this, but you don’t. Why?”

She shook her head. “You will understand very soon. If you have to be forced into it, then that is that. But you will understand.”

Nick stepped away from her quickly. Almost tripped on the edge of the stone stairs leading down from where he’d been tugged at and dragged through a level of hell he didn’t think he would ever experience. Kassandra reached out for him, then stopped, pulling her hand back to her chest. _Good,_ Nick thought, then felt guilty because she was only trying to help him, even if her ideas of… help weren't the most helpful. “But you will understand” stuck with him. Yeah, there were things he would understand. And things she would have to understand, too. For her safety.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done, by taking Shelby and Shark and me,” he said in a low voice. “You don’t know the kind of people you’ve just sent after you. Once word of our disappearance reaches them, your kingdom will be in flames to get us back.”

“Are you threatening me?” she asked.

“No. I’m just stating the truth.”

“I don’t know what kind people you think you know, but I’m pretty sure—”

“I’m an ex-Lord, Kassandra.” He continued even after she blanched at that, digging her nails into her palms in surprise. “I have connections to a majority of the major cities around these places. Shark isn’t my only guard—I have two, three others, all willing to fight for me. One of my closest friends is a witch, a prodigy since she was young. Another one of my closest friends is an ex-Shadow Knight. And, whether or not you believe it, I do have a connection to the Saint Anika. Just ask your Nephew.”

She took a few steps back, despite the fact that he was not approaching her. “I don’t want to threaten you—I don’t want you, or Monroe, to get hurt! You’re very good people and despite slightly… twisted views, you’ve done nothing wrong…”

He took in a deep breath. “But many of the people I know will not care for that. They will see you as an enemy, as a threat, and will deal with you as such. Did I mention that I know a previous Jury of Nine member?”

“You… you can’t,” she stuttered out, “who… who the fuck _are_ you?”

Before Nick could answer, Harry stuck his head in the doorway. “Your honor, your… Meif’wa-or, the wedding is starting very, very soon. I recommend that you two head down there now. You wouldn’t want to be late.

Nick brushed past Kassandra without even a glimpse back her way.

 

The stone steps leading down to the altar felt like a noose tightening around his neck. Lorenzo had the chair underneath propped and ready to tip at any moment, setting him free and letting him fall to the group with a hard snap of his neck. The suicide note already written, telling his family members how much he loved them and how much it was his fault, despite that the King still held the rope in his hands.

Shark was in the crowd. At the very front, the first row of chairs along with family and close friends cheering as he walked by them. As Nick passed by Shark, he whispered a faint, “I’m so sorry,” through the gathering tears in his eyes.

At the end of his prison walkway was Monroe and Lorenzo; Monroe looking sadder than he ever had before, and Lorenzo looking like the cat that got the cream. Or, in this situation, the wolf who got the cream, and the cat who lost their friend.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated to Monroe once he was with them, facing forward and listening to Lorenzo preach about peace and prosperity. He didn’t dare look at Shark, lest he still have a chance to save his friend.

“…Today, we celebrate a love as we’ve never seen before!” the King called, voice rising above all the murmurs in the crowd. “Monroe, son of the moon, do you take this… gem of the sun, Nick, to be your husband? To love and protect, to cherish and hold, to fight with and for, and to strain far past the known barriers of loving with?”

With much hesitance, Monroe looked up at him and said, “I do…”

Lorenzo grinned. “Now, to solidify your wonderful union and marriage, together as one now and forever, may you now share the kiss of Destiny…”

Monroe looked at Nick, panic in his eyes. The crowd waited with anticipation as he reluctantly leaned in. The Queen was quietly murmuring them on, talking of how it was going to be okay, everything would be over soon. In the crowd not far from her, Shark was having a hard time steadying his breathing.

Nick looked at him desperately. He was panting, straining slightly against his binds in an expression that could be pain or anger and both. The guard next to him wasn’t paying attention, instead watching the wedding unfold with rapt interest. Something was wrong, Nick could feel it; from the way Shark’s shoulders hitched up and down, to his ragged breathing, to his eyes screwed shut and his face contorted into an expression he had never seen before… he didn’t think any of them had seen it before…

The guard finally looked over when he broke; stared towards the sky and howled at the top of his lungs, before there was a flash and the horrible sound of a sword. The slash sounded unnaturally loud, like coming out of a speaker, like not from their world, and suddenly bodies around him were falling to the ground; guard and werewolf alike.

Nick looked over and saw Shark but… not Shark. He was taller. Much taller. His skin and hair looked much more desaturated, he was in red and black armor, covering his entire body, and in one hand, arm out to the side and blood dripping off it’s pointed edge, was a sword.

As it shifted, it seemed to cut through the imagery around them, leaving a distortion that quickly faded whenever it left that spot. Heat radiated off of him at intense highs, making the cold night feel like Nick was crawling underneath a desert sun. Red sparks seemed to be coming off him, moving where he moved. They caused the same distortion in the air as his sword, leaving sickening rips wherever he walked.

“ _I WON’T LET YOU TAKE HIM LIKE THIS,_ ” he howled, “ _NOT WITHOUT GOING THROUGH ME FIRST._ ”

He twisted his arm, and a blinding shine ran down his sword dangerously.

Monroe backed into Nick, spreading his arms out defensively in front of him. One of the guards grabbed Queen Kassandra and ushered her to the side, flipping her chair in the process. Everyone else stared, slack-jawed, as Shark pointed the edge of his sword in Lorenzo’s direction.

“What the fuck?” Lorenzo exclaimed; looking at Nick accusatively, he called out, “You idiots!  You should have known he was a Shadow Knight! Why are you just standing there?! Take him down _immediately!_ ”

A wave of people rushed him. And, with haunting, sickening slashes and screams of pain and disgusting squelches of metal passing through flesh and the snap of bone, Shark took them all down, leaving nothing left but a pile of bodies around him. Many of them still had the same expressions of anger they had when they charged him. The blood drained off the side of the building, staining the walls red and dripping slowly from Shark’s armor all the same.

Then he jerked sharply, turning his gaze from the massacre he left behind and turned to Lorenzo.

That’s when Monroe shoved Nick roughly out of the way, moving away from his Uncle as Shark approached, slowly, sword gripped tight in his hands and red eyes staring down at the King with murderous intent.

“Guards!” King Lorenzo called out desperately as he backed up, nearer to the edge of the castle, a drop well over fifty or sixty feet from where he stood. “Stop him! Get away from me, immediately! N-no, no, stay back, get away from me, don’t—”

And King Lorenzo’s reign ended with a single word: “Don’t,” as he lost his footing on the way back and fell off the castle, plummeting to his death below. He was dead before he even hit the ground, a small pool of blood starting to form around his paralyzed body. And not a single star in the sky wept for him.

“ _Hmm,_ ” Shark pondered, staring down at him. “ _That wasn’t as messy as I was hoping for. But, now, for YOU_ —” he turned and stared down Monroe, sword at the ready.

“I never intended to marry him! I was just waiting until I could get my chance and get us all out of here! Please, I have people I need to help!” he cried, backing away slowly.

Nick jumped out in front of him as Shark approached, spreading out his arms wide and yelling, “Shark, don’t! He’s not guilty! He’s not a bad person!”

“ _I. Don’t. Care._ ”

“This is not the Shark I know! He would never kill the innocent—never kill so ruthlessly, so senselessly!”

“ _He tried to hurt you. He DESERVES to die. Now, get out of the way. I refuse to hurt you, too._ ”

“This isn’t YOU!” Nick screamed at him, arms stretched even wider as he tried to block Monroe from his sight. Please, Monroe, just leave. Just go.

“ _This is me. Just not the side of Shark you’ve ever seen before. You have no idea who I truly am. NOBODY does!_ ”

Nick let his arms fall to his side. “You’re wrong,” he said, “I do know who you are. Just, please, snap out of it, Shark.”

“ _Don’t try it!_ ” Shark laughed cruelly. “ _I don’t want to hear your excuses. NOBODY knows this side of me, don’t try and play it off like_ —”

His sentence was cut off by Nick stepping forward and stretching to the tip of his toes, grabbing onto the top of his armor. And then Nick lurched forward, and then he kissed him.

Shark’s sword clattered to the ground with a loud clang. And he, very carefully, very cautiously, put a hand on Nick’s waist, before using the other one to hold him in his arms and hold Nick even closer.

“Nick,” he said softly when they pulled apart. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Nick stared up at him, blinking tears out of his eyes. “The Shark I love wouldn’t do horrible things like kill the innocent,” he said, voice choking up. “I just wanted the Shark I knew back. I’m so, so sorry.”

Shark shushed him gently and held him, sinking down to his knees with Nick curled up on him. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, then repeated it again and again. “I should have never lost control like that, I shouldn’t have let you see me like that I… I should be the one apologizing to you. I vow to you that will never happen again. I’m so _sorry._ ”

Nick felt him transform back, sword disappearing from the ground. Shark held him like he was delicate like he was going to break apart in his hands if he squeezed too tight, and kissed his forehead and then cheek and then his neck again and again until they felt safe enough not to hold onto one another. As the moon shone down onto the roof, Shark once again vowed never to hurt him. The moon watched. And, once again, it approved another union; another vow.


End file.
